How My Thoughts Spin Me 'Round
by BulletBlaze
Summary: A night spent trapped in a lighthouse together brings Stiles and Derek to some realizations that just might change things.


_Straddle the line in discord and rhyme_

 _I'm on the hunt down after you_

 _Mouth is alive with juices like wine_

 _And I'm hungry like the wolf_

Derek startled awake and looked around for what had disturbed him, eyes immediately attracted to the glow of his cell phone in the shadowed room. The obnoxious music continued to play, and Derek tried to glare it into silencing. Stiles had programmed that to be his own personal ringtone, fully aware that Derek didn't know how to change it, nor did he care enough to look it up. When glowering didn't accomplish anything other than the continuation of the song, he grudgingly sat up and reached over to snatch his cell from the night table, angrily punching the answer button and putting it up to his ear.

"What do you want, Stiles."

" _Derek?!"_ Stiles shouted, sounding panicked.

The man was instantly on alert, not having considered earlier that something could be seriously, _life-threateningly_ , wrong. Nothing had really gone down in Beacon Hills for a while. Almost a year, actually.

But now, something was definitely wrong, and Derek was frantically trying to calm Stiles down enough that he could verbalize what was happening and where he was.

"Stiles! Stiles, I need you to take some deep breaths, okay? I need you to calm down and tell me exactly where you are so I can come get you."

Stiles' breathing stuttered and slowed slightly, but then picked back up with a choked out, " _Can't…_ "

"No, you can, you can Stiles," Derek spoke as gently as he could muster, which wasn't really all that gentle, not wanting to freak him out even more with yelling and demands. "You can, just take a deep breath in and hold it, okay? Hold it until you can't anymore and then slowly let it out- like this." As he demonstrated the breaths into the phone, his bedroom door burst open, revealing a sleepy yet wide-eyed Erica and Isaac. They stood and watched apprehensively as Derek coached Stiles into a more steady breathing rate, casting him questioning and frightful looks the whole time, which Derek ignored until he could hear the sound of Stiles' even, if still too heavy breathing.

It took a while, but eventually Stiles could speak.

" _I- I'm locked in the lighthouse. The one about ten miles from the edge of Beacon Hills. Do you- do you know the one?_ " he gasped.

"Yeah, I know it. I'll be there in 15 minutes, okay? Are you hurt? What happened? Why are you there?"

Stiles chuckled lightly before wheezing, " _Now who's the rambling one, eh Sourwolf?_ "

Despite the light blush that he could feel covering his face and ears, Derek ignore the teasing and growled, "Stiles."

" _Okay, okay. I'm not hurt. Just stuck. It's storming and I can't get out and I'm freaking out and-_ "

"Stiles," Derek interrupted. "Breathe."

He heard a gulp from Stiles followed by a few deep breaths. Then, " _Thanks. I'm okay. Just… Just hurry, 'kay?_ " Stiles' voice was so uncharacteristically meek and desperate, and Derek resolved to get there in _ten_ minutes.

They got there in seven minutes. Erica and Isaac came along, even though they now knew it wasn't life-or-death, and they smirked with raised eyebrows the entire way as Derek broke every driving law there was to cut the trip short.

Stiles was right about the storm. It was incredibly windy and raining and thunder was booming overhead, which had caused some worrying swerves on the road, but they quickly found the lighthouse nevertheless.

Erica pointed out Stiles' jeep off to the side of the road, but Derek had no eyes for the car. He only had eyes for the lighthouse, imagining Stiles inside- scared and cold and panicking- and he abandoned the car without a second thought, not even wincing as the strong wind took the door and slammed it closed as soon as Derek let go of it. He didn't even notice that his betas had opted to stay in the warmth of the Camaro.

He ran to the tall building, struggling to keep his footing, what with the uneven rocks and strong wind. Prying the heavy door open proved fruitless, the wind holding it firmly against its frame. Derek looked up the side of the building, eyeing the uneven bricks with hesitance. Finding no other solution, the man ran to the other side of the lighthouse where the wind was slightly blocked and started climbing up the side of the building. He used his claws to grip onto the makeshift hand and foot holds, almost slipping a few times from the wet stone.

Upon reaching the top, Derek made his way to the door and grabbed the handle, yanking with all that he had. He somehow managed to get a foot in the door and proceeded to squeeze his body through the tight opening. Just as with his car, the instant he got his foot out from the doorway, the dark room was sealed once again.

"Derek?"

Said man spun around at the sound of Stiles' shaky voice and could thankfully make him out in the dark thanks to his enhanced vision. Sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, Stiles was looking desperately in the direction of Derek.

"Yeah, I'm here," he assured, walking over to Stiles and kneeling in front of him. Derek hesitantly placed a hand over one of Stiles', who readily wound their fingers together, gripping tight enough for even Derek to feel a brief twinge of pain. "What are you doing here?"

Stiles chuckled, the sound tinged with self-deprecation and voice still trembling. "It's stupid. I came up here a few hours ago and then the storm rolled in and I couldn't get either of the doors open because the wind is too strong and the fucking light won't come on and-"

"Stiles."

"Right, not important. Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Derek sighed. "I just don't want you to freak out again."

Stiles nodded. "So, uh. Are we gonna try and get out of here or…?"

Looking back over at the door, Derek contemplated trying to get Stiles outside and down the side of the building.

"No way in hell. We're just gonna have to wait it out. Isaac checked the weather on the way over, said the storm should be passed in an hour at most."

He saw Stiles' head look up, expression curious. "Isaac came?"

"And Erica."

The teen simply stared towards Derek for a few seconds before asking, "And they can't help us out of here because…?"

"I… Don't know. Isaac, Erica. A little help?" he called loudly.

After a moment of silence, Erica's voice sounded gleefully, " _Nope! We think you've got this under control._ "

"Erica-"

" _Actually, I think Isaac and I are gonna head back. But don't worry, Stiles' car is here so you can take him home and make sure he's safe, tuck him in, kiss him goodnight, blah blah blah before coming home._ "

"Erica!"

Nothing.

Stiles squeezed Derek's hand and asked, "What'd she say? Not all of us have super doggy hearing."

Ignoring the joke, Derek sighed, "I think they left."

"Why?" Stiles asked, sounding not all that surprised.

Derek shrugged and tried to hide his blush, before realizing that Stiles couldn't see either. "I don't know, but we're gonna be stuck until it calms down outside. How long did you say you've been here?"

"Not too long," he replied, aware that Derek could hear the blip in his heartbeat. He decided to ignore it and instead shifted to take a seat beside Stiles, leaning back against the wall. Stiles' hand slipped out of his and Derek was too chicken shit to pick it back up.

It was a good ten minutes before the silence was broken again, and in that time Derek had given Stiles his jacket after noticing him shivering under his thin red hoodie.

"My mom used to bring me here. Whenever my dad was working super long shifts and I would start to worry or miss him too much, we'd hop in the car and sit out on the deck, watching the water and talking about our days. It was nice. Relaxing. I guess I was hoping I could get some of that today."

It didn't sound like an ending statement, the way he finished. So Derek didn't say anything, wanting Stiles to get it out at his own pace.

Surely enough, a few minutes later he was continuing. "College admissions have been a huge stress-drenched thorn in my side for weeks, Scott's blown me off for Allison at least twice a week for the past month, Dad's been working more doubles than should be legal and we rarely see each other anymore. Things just… suck. And I know I shouldn't be complaining because I _know_ how much worse things could be. You know, with all the death and mangling and dramatic master plans of mass destruction and betrayal and all that super evil fun stuff. But… weirdly enough, I feel more nervous now that things have been calm so long than I did when there was a new bad guy every month. I knew what to expect then, I knew to expect something bad to happen. It didn't surprise me. But now that things are actually okay, I don't know what to expect. I hate not knowing what to expect. So I guess that's why I came up here. But then this _goddamn motherfucking storm_ had to come and mess up my day. And I got scared- stupid, I know, and I didn't want to bother my dad cause I know he's so tired all the time, and I figured that if anyone was going to actually answer my call this late, it would be you. So, sorry. But also, thanks."

Derek didn't reply for a long while, thinking about how he almost didn't answer the call, and thinking about how he's also been waiting for the other shoe to drop, and thinking about how he's so relieved neither of those things happened that night.

In lieu of saying anything, Derek mustered up the courage to lift his hand and settle it over Stiles' once again.

They breathed in silence for a long time, hands connected on top of Stiles' knee, just resting there innocently, yet somehow thickening the air around them, as if some sort of chemical reaction was occurring, just from them touching. Derek wouldn't be surprised. Amazing things always did happen whenever they touched. Lifesaving things.

But neither of them were in danger. Neither of them needed to be saved, so why did the touch seem so important?

Maybe. Derek thought, it was _because_ neither of them were in danger. They didn't touch much except when they needed to, so the fact that they had this point of contact when they didn't physically need it seemed monumental.

"It's not stupid."

Stiles made an inquisitive noise, confused by Derek's sudden statement.

"You coming up here. It's not stupid."

"Oh," he said. "I mean, it is a little. I don't know why I-"

"No, it's not. You wanna know something that's stupid?"

Stiles didn't even seem irritated that he had gotten interrupted. Instead, he made another curious sound in his throat.

"I almost killed us on the drive here just so that I could get to you faster. Even though I knew you weren't in danger, it still felt like you were. I was scared that something would happen before I got here. That's stupid."

Derek glanced over at Stiles and saw the young man gazing into the dark in Derek's direction, trying to make out a face in the black. "That's not stupid, either," he breathed. "That's… I really appreciate it. You being here has made me feel.. a lot better than I would've expected. So thank you, seriously." Stiles squeezed Derek's hand and bumped their shoulders together. Derek squeezed back and kept their sides pressed tightly against one another's, feeling oddly nervous.

It was a few minutes later that Derek heard Stiles' breathing stop and felt a head slowly come to rest on his shoulder. Derek closed his eyes as they both let out a deep, shaky sigh, relaxing into the position.

They fell asleep like that, listening to the storm outside and to each other's now easy breathing, Derek's head falling to lay atop of Stiles' not long after, nuzzling into his hair in his unconscious state.

When they two woke up a few hours later, the storm had stopped and the morning sun was starting to shine. They sat on the wet deck and watched as the sun rose higher in the sky with their hands clasped tightly between them. Their first kiss was shared in the morning light, and neither of them were scared.


End file.
